


Speedometer

by thievinghippo



Series: V'rel - swtor [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thievinghippo/pseuds/thievinghippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in the slow lane is no place for a smuggler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speedometer

Predictably, they fuck on the sabacc table.

Trousers down around her knees, Darmas’s fingers grip her hips tight as he ruts into her from behind. Her hands splayed across the table, V'rel closes her eyes and tries to forget.

Forget that Skavak stole her ship. Forget the way Corso looks at her - a combination of sweetheart and savior. Forget that Rogun the Butcher is after her for one botched job when she’s run a half a dozen successful ones for him.

A moan escapes her lips as Darmas whispers filthy nothings in her ear, his finger circling her clit. She’s surprised at the callouses she feels on his fingers, thinking an Information Broker would have delicate hands. But these are the hands of a man who knows how to hold a blaster.

She finishes not too long after - he can call her a naughty girl any time - and within moments, Darmas wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he grinds out his own orgasm.

They’re quiet as they put themselves back together, which V'rel expects. This is nothing more than attraction being smothered, an itch being scratched. But then he surprises her, by taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips. Her blue skin looks dark next to his pale pink features and she wonders the view he had as they fucked, how his swollen cock must have looked gliding into her blue cunt.

“I’ve always thought the Chiss had lovely eyes, and you, my dear, have lovelier than most,” he says, sounding almost earnest.

V'rel wants to laugh at the cheesiness of the line, so she does. “You already got me to take down my pants, Darmas. You can spare me the lines.”

“Ah, but what if I’m hoping next time you’ll remove all your clothes?” Darmas says, reaching out and straightening her vest. “An old gambler like me needs every advantage with a pretty, young thing like you.”

V'rel tries to think of a witty comeback, something to defuse the warmth she feels in her belly. She’s not the type of woman men want to fuck twice. Chubby and blue. More often than not, she’s just a check mark on someone’s list as they try to fuck their way through the galaxy, thanks to how rare Chiss are in Republic space.

But he sounds like he means it, and she doesn’t know what to do with that. Darmas is older than most of the men she fucks, older but better looking, too. And that _voice…_ She decides then and there that she’ll look him up again, but not until she has her ship back. Priorities.

He takes her in his arms then and V'rel says the only thing she can think of. “Who knew playing sabacc could be so much fun?”

#

She’d rather be out with Bowdaar, trying to earn some credits on this obnoxious planet. Or better yet, in a cantina, taking shots of Corellian whiskey, playing darts with Corso. Now that the kid seems to have gotten it out of his head that she's a possibility, he's become decent company.

Instead she's sitting across from a noble who’s only using using her as fuel for a fantasy. V'rel should have realized the moment Lenn called her _exotic_.

Fuck, she hates that word.

But V'rel will humor him. After all, she has no contacts on Alderaan and besides, she's never fucked nobility before. Ten credits he makes her do all the work.

The idea causes a laugh to bubble up in her throat, escaping as a giggle. Lenn looks a tad offended, and says, "I wasn't aware the history of my family could cause such amusement.”

V'rel's never been one to apologize for a social faux paux, so she takes a large swallow of her wine and stands up, one hand on her hip. The wine is incredible, better than she’ll ever be able to afford, but she’s had enough to drink in an unfamiliar place, she thinks. A gal can never be too careful.

Lenn leans back in his chair, and pats his thighs, clearly an invitation. Sauntering over to him, V'rel says, keeping her voice husky, “But what of the fascinating history of your family?”

“Right now, I find you far more fascinating,” is Lenn’s predictable response. “For example, are you really that blue all the way down?”

Months ago, she swore she would punch the next man who asked her that question right in the balls. Why is it so difficult of a concept for humans to understand? She thinks of the future potential business and decides to play the game. “Only one way to find out,” she whispers into his ear.

He takes the bait and they kiss. And within moments, she’s bored. This is a man who’s used to having his women handed to him on a silver platter. Probably never ever went down on a woman before.

That won’t fly with her.

It’s almost too easy before she’s naked on his bed with his head between her thighs. What he clearly lacks in experience, Lenn certainly makes up with enthusiasm, she’s willing to give him that much. But she can almost hear him telling his noble friends of the ‘exotic blue lady’ he ate out last night.

After enough time passes - enthusiasm alone isn’t enough to make a girl get off - V’rel sits up and kisses him, tasting her wetness on his tongue. Determined to make him work some more, she lays back down, balancing on her forearms, with her ass high in the air. And when Lenn tries to take his time, a quick word from her hurries him right back up.

It’s a simple fuck, and thanks to her own fingers, V’rel manages to get off. But she just fucked a noble in a palace on silk sheets. Plus, she made sure Lenn will never, ever forget her as a future contact.

All in all, there are worse ways to spend a night.

#

“So this is the famous ship I heard so much about?” Darmas asks, as they walk through the halls. “She’s a beauty.”

V'rel pats the wall. Her ship isn’t beautiful and never will be. But it’s paid for and all _hers._ She’ll never have to work for pirates, like her stint on the _Sky Princess,_ again. “I’m glad you had time for a tour,” she says as the door to her bedroom opens up. Delivering the genetic samples she received on Nar Shaddaa was the perfect excuse to meet up with Darmas again.

“As am I, my dear,” Darmas says as they walk into the bedroom. “I had an invitation to go to a flute recital of all things, tonight. You can’t imagine how pleased I was to give my regrets.”

The door closes behind them and V’rel throws her shirt to the floor. Darmas looks at her with an appraising eye. She knows he’s had younger women, thinner women, and more beautiful women. But she also knows he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. Darmas isn’t the type of man to waste time with charity work.

V’rel wraps her arms around his neck and they kiss, his hands settling comfortably on her ass. “I certainly do appreciate an eager woman,” he says, before kissing her again and unhooking her bra. “Now let’s get you out of these confining clothes.”

Before long, they’re both naked on her bed, lights on, and on top of the covers. Darmas was fully clothed last time, so V’rel takes a moment to look at his body. He seems to be in relatively good shape for someone his age, but signs of aging are there. Greying chest hair, and balls she decides not to think about too much.

Darmas sits back, leaning against the headboard and V’rel settles herself in his lap, legs on either side of his hips. She wants to see his face this time as they fuck.

It’s not very often she fucks someone more than once. Been years since she has, actually. But there’s something about him, she thinks, as she starts to move her hips.

V’rel sets a quick pace, like she always does, one of the reasons she likes being on top. But then Darmas asks, “Why don’t we take our time?”

She shakes her head and keeps up the tempo. V’rel doesn’t do slow. And not just when it comes to sex. Slow _scares_ her. Slow means missed opportunities and opportunity is a spacer’s life blood. So she’s always on the go, looking for that next haul, always wanting that next chance to earn some credits.

His hands are _everywhere_ , and he doesn’t even ignore her small stomach roll, which most men avoid like the plague. For her part, V’rel focuses on his arms and his shoulders; Darmas clearly takes care of himself and V’rel supposes she could get off her ass and go to the gym once in awhile.

But why bother, she decides, as Darmas starts thrusting up into her. V’rel lets out a moan, thinking of all the running she does on the job. Why spend any more time sweating that she has to?

Unless it’s the good type of sweating, like now, when she can already feel her bangs sticking to her forhead as the slick sound of sex fills her cabin. Been a bit since she’s brought anyone back to her ship. And never when she flew solo. Only thanks to Corso and Bowdaar and Risha does she feel comfortable enough to have Darmas here

They’re kissing as she comes. Her orgasm is sharp, unlike the roundness she’s used to. But she moans into his mouth and clenches around him until Darmas grunts, hips moving erratically.

V’rel sits up then, stretching her arms high over her head, so her breasts are at their best. With a wicked grin, she asks, “Ready for the rest of the tour?”

#

This is by far the stupidest thing she’s ever done, and by the stars, she’s done some stupid things in her life.

But nothing compares to fucking Skavak in a spaceport that could be destroyed at any moment.

“Ground rules?” he asks, his breathing heavy as they kiss. Bastard’s a _good_ kisser. This would be so much easier if he ended up being a bad lay. But every move tells her otherwise, the way his hands palm her ass, his teeth nipping her lower lip.

“No killing until we both get off,” V'rel says, unbuttoning his trousers. He’s already hard, so she glides her hand up and down his length through the fabric.

“Agreed,” he says with a moan.

His hand slides down her own trousers and he immediately starts playing with her clit. She’s wet, wetter than she thinks she should be, and feels betrayed by her own body. So more to distract herself, she asks, “You really thought about this?”

“Fuck, yes,” Skavak says, his eyes fluttering close. “Ever since Coruscant.”

It would be easy, _too_ easy, to kill him right now, take the treasure and run. But V'rel believes in the Spacer’s Agreement. It’s why she so willingly helped Feylara on the Celestial Crow, knowing it was most likely a trap. Someone has to take the risk to help each other; it might as well be her.

So instead of killing Skavak, she’ll fuck him. Then she’ll kill him.

Thanks to their heights, V'rel doesn’t need to take her trousers off. She simply pushes them down to her knees, spreading her feet slightly. Skavak pushes her against the wall, and with a little fumbling - sex standing up like this is so damn _awkward_ \- his cock fills her up.

The stretch is _delicious_ , and V'rel almost forgives him for being such a pain in the ass these last few months. But she’s still pissed he stowed away on her ship, so she grabs a handful of Skavak’s hair and pulls hard, breaking his rhythm.

“I knew you’d like it rough,” he says, digging his fingernails into her hips.

“Just shut up and fuck,” V’rel snaps back.

Amazingly enough, Skavak does just that. She closes her eyes, hoping just the sensation will distract her from what she’s doing. Corso is probably unconscious on the ship and who even knows where Bowdaar went? She literally put her life in the hands of a man who wants to kill her.

Why does anyone let her do _anything_?

But then Skavak reaches between her legs, putting pressure on her clit and she lets out a gasp. “Like that, huh?” he whispers.

All she can do is nod - stars, this isn’t fair, why is one of the best fucks of her life with _him?_ \- as she clenches around him. Skavak starts to thrust harder and V’rel has to grab onto his shirt to keep her balance.

He’s pounding into her now and she’s struggling to keep quiet, just in case Bowdaar’s within earshot. It feels like they’ve just started, but now she’s gritting her teeth, so not to shout out as she comes.

Skavak stills against her then. They’re both breathing heavy and neither one of them seem willing to look the other in the eye.

He steps aways first. “Thanks, Captain,” Skavak says, buttoning his trousers. “I always did want to fuck a Chiss.”

Before he said those words, V’rel thought about giving him another chance to negotiate. Why not, right? They obviously can work well together. But now?

She doesn’t look back when he’s dead five minutes later.

#

“So I have to know,” V’rel says, dragging her lower lip across the length of Numen’s cock. She looks up at the twi’lek, but his eyes are closed. Where’s the fun in that? “Can you fuck with those lekku?”

Numen’s eyes open instantly and he takes his hand out of her hair. For a moment, she wonders if she just said something taboo, but then he throws back his head and laughs. “I will fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before if you’ll just put your mouth back on my cock.”

“Tempting offer,” V’rel says, blowing air over the sensitive skin of the head. “I do enjoy trying new things. I’m in.”

They had been lying, side by side, but if she’s going to give a proper blowjob, V’rel likes being on her knees. She grabs a pillow to put under her knees and grabs Numen’s hands.

He must not have much time for fun, being part of the resistance, because he acts like he’s never had his cock sucked before. Poor guy, she decides, wanting to give him a good time. Numen’s earned a bit of a rest.

V’rel uses all her tricks and it doesn’t take long before she has to hold down his hips to keep him from thrusting too much. And more than once, he pulls her hair too hard, causing her eyes to sting. If she had more time, she’d teach him better etiquette, but she’s leaving the planet in three hours.

As she’s giving her jaw a bit of a respite, working him with her hand, he comes without any warning. It’s all over her chest and the splatter causes a bit of spunk to go into her eyes. She blinks back tears and reminds herself this is why she rarely gives blow jobs during one-night stands.

“Shit,” Nunem says, and to his credit, he does look embarrassed. Grabbing his shirt, he wipes off the come on her chest. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

“I’m going to take your word for it,” V’rel says, teasing him a bit. She sits up on the bed and grabs one of his lekku. “So you really can fuck with these things?”

Letting out a bark of a laugh, Nunem says, “You can fuck with anything.”

“Prove it,” V’rel says, laying back on the bed, but propping herself up on her elbows so she can watch.

“What, not even a stroke for my lekku before you fuck?” Nunem asks with a grin. “Greedy girl.”

V’rel grabs one of his lekku and brings it to her mouth, ignoring how her eyes sting. Slowly, obviously, she drags her tongue around the tip of his lekku. “This better?” she asks.

“Much,” Numem says, getting on his knees next to the bed. He starts with his fingers, teasing her inner thighs as V’rel bites her lower lip. She watches, transfixed as he coats his lekku in her wetness.

Then he pushes his lekku into her cunt and V’rel splays her hands on her stomach, trying to get used to the unfamiliar sensation. She had a dildo that felt like this once. “I like it,” she announced, as Numen pushes it in further.

He starts the repetitive motion - in out in out - as V’rel rubs her fingers against her clit. His lekku is too smooth for much friction, so she leans back her head and lets herself enjoy the sensation of being filled.

Thanks to her hand, in a few minutes she comes all over her fingers. Sitting up, she wipes her hand on Numen’s cheek just once, before he puts her fingers in his mouth and sucks off all her juices.

They kiss, then, and V’rel finds herself hoping he’ll live through the war, even if she’ll never see him again after tonight.

#

V’rel sits with her crew in the longue of her ship, glad she let the droid fly the ship for once. “To being a hero!” she says with a laugh, thinking just how _good_ it felt to help those people off of Quesh.

“I’d rather be well paid,” Risha says, rolling her eyes, but even so, she takes a drink of the champagne V’rel brought out for the occasion.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” V’rel says, getting up and plunking down next to Risha. What would she have done with no Risha in her life? She kisses Risha on the cheek. “We’re making money thanks to that weapon on Balmorra.” Tilting her head, she tries to remember the name of it, but fails miserably. “Whatever that thing was called.”

“You’re drunk, Captain,” Corso says, but V’rel hears the slur of his words.

“You’re drunk,” she says back with a laugh. “Ooh. Let’s get Bowdaar drunk. Can Wookies get drunk?”

Risha stands up then and with a mock courtesy, says, “Well, I’m not quite drunk and I plan to keep it that way. I’m going to bed.”

V’rel tries not to sigh. She doesn’t want to be left alone with Corso, not when he’ll look at her with those sad eyes of his. A few months back, she thought him over his crush, only to discover it never left; he only learned how to hide it better.

But if she were to turn in herself right now, his feeling surely would be hurt. There are so many other things she’d rather do than talk to him alone, like getting Darmas on the holo. Maybe she could touch herself while he watches. They did that once, after Balmorra, and they would have to do it again some time.

Instead of making her excuses, V’rel picks up Risha’s half-finished glass of champagne and drinks the rest in one swallow. “This is pretty good,” she says to make idle conversation.

Corso downs the rest of his own drink and V’rel waits, preparing for the inevitable, and hopes she can let the kid down easy.

“So I heard from my cousin again, Captain,” Corso says finally. “She’s thinking about leaving the Black Suns.”

“That’s great, Corso,” V’rel says, leaning back and putting her feet up on the table in front of them. If he wants to talk about other things, she’s game. “Those gangs on Coruscant are bad news.”

“You ever wonder, Captain, if we’re bad news?” Corso asks, scooting over on the wide seat, so he’s next to her.

“What do do you mean?” she asks. She’s a bit too drunk for philosophical discussions, but she’ll humor the kid.

“Think about when we met. You were running guns and I worked for a gangster. We were people we’d try to take out these days,” Corso says. “What does that say about us?”

“That people change,” V’rel says quietly, knowing it’s the truth. She has. Darmas has helped her become someone she might actually like.

“Maybe,” he says, flinging his arm over the back of the couch, so it rests against her shoulders. “But I can’t imagine some things changing.”

He kisses her then, so softly V’rel can taste the champagne on his lips. For a second, V’rel wants to return the kiss. He smells wholesome, and fresh, and for just a moment, V’rel pictures herself in the life he wants. Settling down on a farm somewhere, with a couple of kids.

She’d be bored within a week.

So she pushes him away. “I’m sorry.”

He gives her that grin, the one that convinced her to take him off of Ord Mantel with her, the one that sometimes completely disarms her. “I just had to try once, you know? Trying to be a bit more like you. Live life without regrets. Now I don’t have to wonder ‘what if’ any more.”

V’rel nods, understanding completely. Stars, she can even respect him a bit more with that attitude. “We still friends?” she asks.

“I’ll always have your back, Captain,” Corso says, standing up. He grabs the bottle of champagne and starts to walk down the corridor towards his bunk. “Always.”

It’s not until later V’rel realizes he never answered her question.

#

“I thought I might be seeing you soon, Captain.”

V’rel smirks, leaning against the doorway to Darmas’s office in Port Nowhere. “After the King’s Ransom heist, I figure we were overdue for a celebration.”

“I know I should be a good little patriot and tell you to get to Belsavis as soon as you can. But I suppose… ” Darmas trails off, pushing his chair back from the desk, and patting his lap. “Work can wait. For once.”

“Pleased you agree,” V’rel says, sauntering into his office. She’s not been in here before, not having the time on her previous trips to the station. It’s an industrial looking room with no personality, very different from his cozy little private cantina on Coruscant.

Instead of his lap, she leans against the edge of his desk, right next to him. She’s about to take a bit of a risk, and her heart flutters at the thought. “So a little bird told me that you’re a fan of huttball,” she says.

“I see I’m not the only one who has access to information,” Darmas says, sliding his hand up her thigh. “You heard correctly. The Rotworms are near and dear to my heart and disappoint me every year.”

V’rel brightens, and takes out a disc from her pocket. “And I just happen to have a holodisc of their lastest match against the Frog-Dogs.”

She’s not sure if he’s interested in any sort of relationship outside of a sexual one. But Corso’s words have been on her mind for a while now. _Live life without regrets._ It’s a motto she’s had for a long time, but needed the kid to remind her. So she’s offering Darmas an evening together and waits to hear what he says.

“That sounds delightful,” Darmas says after a moment. “Give me five minutes to finish some correspondence and we’ll watch the recording.”

V’rel walks to the sofa with a deliberate sway in her hips. While he works, she sets up the holorecording. Personally, she’s never been a huge fan of huttball, but she’s happy to play along for Darmas.

Within a few minutes, they’re settled on the sofa, Darmas leaning back with his legs crossed at the knee, and arm around her shoulders. V’rel leans into him, tucking legs underneath her.

And it’s _fun._ It’s actually fun, rooting for the Frog-Dogs, just to get a rise out of Darmas. They bet kisses and future sexual favors as the game progresses and V’rel knows no matter the outcome of the game, they’re going to have a good time.

“Is it wrong I want my own team to lose?” Darmas asks quietly, his mouth only inches away from her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “I do so want to know what that sweet little pussy of yours tastes like.”

V’rel bites her lip, feeling desire shoot straight down her spinal chord, into her cunt. “Funny,” she says, somehow managing to sound casual. “I thought the same thing about the Frog-Dogs.”

But then he kisses her, hard and hot, sliding his hand between her legs, and V’rel knows it doesn’t matter who lost the game, because they’re both going to win.

#

“I don’t want to talk about it,” V’rel mumbles as she motions to the bartender to get her another shot.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Guss asks, resting his arms on the bar in front of them. “You’ve been good to me. I’m happy to listen.”

How could she have been so _stupid?_ To think, Darmas had been an Imperial Agent all this time, and she didn’t have any idea. Shouldn’t she have known? But then again, would she? She’s the one who fell for Skavak’s schemes and went chasing off after Feylara.

“I’m too trusting, Guss,” she says finally, picking up the latest shot. It burns as it goes down her throat. “Too. Damn. Trusting.”

Around them, Corellia is at war. Sumalee keeps asking her to do more and more and now V’rel is regretting the day Corso talked his way into her life. If she hadn’t let him come to Coruscant with her, he would have never introduced her to Darmas.

Fucking Darmas.

At first, V’rel didn’t want to believe all the evidence staring at her in the face. She made an absolute fool of herself, she knows, trying to defend him. And until he said, _You think a few nights in your bed, can weigh against the glory of the Empire?_ V’rel thought they might find a way out of this mess.

“I like that you’re trusting, Captain. If you weren’t, you would have never let me onboard your ship,” Guss says, taking a sip of his drink, some odd smelling pink concoction. “And I like being on your ship.”

“Thank you,” V’rel says, feeling the alcohol running through her bloodstream. No doubt about it, she’s going to make stupid decisions soon. Hopefully the fallout won’t be too painful. “You’ve been a good friend.”

 _I’ll never leave you_ , Guss told her once. That’s what she needs right now. Someone who doesn’t expect anything or even want anything from her. Without thinking, she puts her hand on Guss’ thigh and slides it up a bit.

“Err, Captain?” Guss says, not moving a muscle. “Do you know anything about Mon Calamari biology?”

V’rel lifts her hand off his leg like it’s on fire. “Oh stars, Guss, I’m sorry.”

Guss visibly relaxes. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, it’s just, from what I hear, my parts don’t really work with humanoid parts.”

“Fair enough,” V’rel says, waving towards the bartender. There is not enough alcohol in the world to make this right. She just hit on Guss. _Guss._ If that’s not rock bottom, she doesn’t ever want to find out what is.

The bartender brings them two shots. V’rel picks one up and places the other in Guss’s webbed hands. She looks at him then, and he stares at her with that eager look of his. “We never speak of this again. Agreed?”

Guss clinks his shot glass against hers. “Agreed.”

#

“Thanks for meeting me here.”

V’rel slips into the cantina booth across from Lemda. “I honestly didn’t expect to hear from you again,” she tells the young scientist.

And it’s true. V’rel had fun flirting with the kid, especially when their lives could have ended at any moment on Makeb, thanks to those groundquakes. But that’s all it was, a pleasant distraction. Better than thinking only of the doom and gloom.

Besides, they live completely different lives. Lemda is smart, focused, and has an amazing life ahead of her. Last thing she needs is to get mixed up with a spacer.

“I wasn’t sure I should call you,” Lemda says, and there’s a hint of redness to her cheeks. There’s a shot of some sort of drink in front of her, and without warning, Lemda drinks it one gulp. “But then I thought, why not?”

“Color me intrigued, kid,” V’rel says, motioning to the waitress so she could get a drink.

Lemda takes a deep breath. “I hate one night stands with strangers, but you’re not a stranger, we’ve kissed-”

“Hold up,” V’rel says, putting out her hand. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? This is a booty call?”

“Well, if you’re not interested…” Lemda trails off, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

V’rel can’t help but grin at her obviousness. “Oh I’m interested,” she says with a smirk. Been far too long since she’s been with a woman, she decides. She’s missed the softness of a woman’s body against her own. Maybe this will help chase away Darmas’ ghost. “You want to come to the ship?”

“I don’t have much time,” Lemda says, biting her lower lip. “I need to get back planetside and help with the refugees.”

“Quickie in the bathroom it is,” V’rel says, laughing a bit. She stands up and grabs Lemda’s hands, pulling the girl in close, before kissing her hard on the lips.

While their first kiss on Makeb tasted like innocence and possibilities, this kiss is harder, more desperate and V’rel is already saying goodbye. Ignoring the hollers of some of the catina patrons, V’rel takes Lemda’s hand and they walk towards the back of the cantina.

Luck is on their side, because they pass a storage closet, and laughing, they step inside. Lemda presser V’rel against the wall, her mouth demanding. For a little thing, she sure is strong.

They kiss until V’rel is almost dizzy with desire, until she needs to feel Lemda’s skin under her palms or she will _burst._ So she lifts up Lemda’s skirt, and lets out a laugh, realizing she’s wearing nothing underneath.

Lemda shudders as V’rel teases the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Already she’s wet and waiting, and V’rel can’t think of any reason to prolong things, not when Lemda needs to get out of here.

So she pulls down her trousers, so they’re around her ankles, and moves Lemda so she’s straddling her upper thigh. V’rel braces her back against the wall as Lemda starts moving against her leg. They kiss and V’rel starts touching herself as Lemda grabs onto her vest as she rocks against her more quickly.

It takes no time at all before Lemda is shuddering and crying out, making V’rel work with her own hand more quickly. And then she comes, loud and unashamed, not caring if the entire bar hears her.

“Thank you,” Lemda whispers as she straightens her skirt. “I really needed that.”

V’rel pushes a lock of hair out of Lemda’s face and smiles. While this was fun, she’s never one to be at someone’s beck and call for sex. Next time Lemda calls, she simply won’t pick up the holo.

#

She’s nervous - why is she nervous? - as they climb into the shuttle. This is the part that’s supposed to be fun for her, the part she’s good at. This is her reward for saving the galaxy. Time alone with a handsome man in a dark and quiet shuttle.

But then instead of kissing her once the hatch closes, Theron simply _holds_ her, and V’rel is terrified.

Feelings were never supposed to get involved.

Look how well they worked out last time. She can’t go through that again. She can’t.

But then Theron kisses her, before cradling her face between her palms. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, looking down. “I don’t know how I could have gotten through all of this without you.”

She wants to respond in kind, she does. The words are even on the tip of her tongue, but something stops her. So V’rel falls back on her old standby, grabbing Theron by his jacket and kisses him like there’s no tomorrow. And thanks to the crazy Emperor the Sith have, maybe there won’t be.

“Hey. Hey, slow down,” he whispers into her ear. “We have plenty of time. No one is going to look for us for a while.”

Feelings and now slow? V’rel’s fingers curl into fists. What sort of fresh hell is this?

She looks up at Theron then, and he looks so damn earnest, that V’rel decides for once in her life, to lay back and let someone else drive. She presses her lips against his as softly as she can, and concentrates. There’s a slight dent in his lower lip, perfect for nibbling, and there’s an imperfection on the left side of his upper lip. If V’rel didn’t know any better, she thinks he had a scar there, that hadn’t quite healed correctly.

“Better?” she says quietly, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.

Theron shrugs out of his jacket and carefully places it on the pilot’s chair. Before she can get off a quip, his arms are around her again, taking off her vest, as he kisses her neck. “Much,” he says.

V’rel starts to unbutton her shirt as Theron lifts his shirt over his head. His left shoulder is a maze of scars, and she finds herself wanting to know the history of each one. And if they have time…

She places her hand on his shoulder, tracing the ropy scar down his arm. “Mission gone bad,” Theron says, picking up her hand and bringing it to his lips.

His voice tells her he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, which V’rel can respect. So she takes off her sports bra, wishing she was wearing something nicer, maybe something sheer or with lace. But running around the jungles of Yavin 4 left her with few options for support.

Theron licks his lips as he looks at her, before walking over to the back of the shuttle. She’s been on this model before, so she’s not surprised at all as he pushes the seat back, giving them a place to lay down.

What does surprise her is sitting down and taking off his boots. They have time, but do they really have _that_ much time? But she decides to humor him, taking off her own boots and gloves.

The moment she sits down next to him, they’re kissing again, and his hands are on her breasts. Slow is all well and good, but Theron’s _hands…_

The air becomes a bit more frantic as they both remove their trousers and underwear. V’rel doesn’t bother to hide her admiration when he’s completely naked in front of her. “You’re beautiful,” she says with a smile as she wraps her hand around his cock.

“Ha,” Theron says, eyes fluttering. He gently pushes her hand away. V’rel knows she must look confused, because he adds, “Sorry, it’s just… It’s been a while.

 _How_? V’rel wants to ask. He’s the type of man who should have his pick of women every night. So instead she says, “Well, we wouldn’t want to end the fun early.”

“Exactly,” Theron says, pushing her down, so she’s on her back. “See? Slow.”

Stars, she wants him so much it almost hurts. And then V’rel realizes that it’s not just sex she wants. She wants _him._ She wants to know what his cybernetics do, why he’s so uncomfortable around his mother, and why, out of all the people he could have holo’d that day, did he choose _her?_

But then as Theron settles between her legs and pushes into her, V’rel decides those questions can wait.

#

“I told you I’d visit you in jail,” V’rel says, resting her hand on her chin as she sits at the table while Darmas is brought into the visiting room.

He wears a simple orange jumpsuit and no restraints, and breaks out into a genuine laugh when he see her. Sitting down across from her, he says, “You are the last person I expected to see here, my dear.”

“No hard feelings on my end,” V’rel says with a shrug. The truth is she’s missed Darmas. Not just the sex, but his friendship. She misses the late night holocalls and the text messages back and forth.

And… she’s scared.

She doesn’t understand her feelings for Theron. After being with him, and knowing he’s out there, and she doesn’t have the means to contact him, hurts more than she cares to admit. His kiss still seems to linger on her lips, weeks after the fact, and V’rel doesn’t know what to think about that. It’s desperate how much she wants to hold him again. 

So when she found herself in this neck of the woods, she decided to pay Darmas a visit, wondering if she can try to unjumble everything inside. If she still felt that flutter when she speaks to Darmas, maybe she can write off these feelings for Theron.

But V’rel looks at him, and there’s nothing. Nothing but concern for someone she thinks of as a friend.

“Good,” Darmas says quietly, leaning forward in his chair, resting his weight on his forearms. “I might have said you’re on the wrong side, Captain, but I’m not so far out of the game that I don’t hear whispers.”

V’rel scoots her chair closer to the table. “What have you heard?”

“You worked with someone in the Empire,” he says. “Ziost has everyone running scared. It might just take the Republic and Empire working together to defeat the Emperor.”

“Appreciate the tip,” V’rel says, running her hand through her hair. Stars, what had she gotten herself into when she first accepted that holocall from Theron? No one should depend on her to save the galaxy. No one. “What about you?”

“I’m getting out of here soon, believe it or not,” Darmas says. “My mission was a long-term undercover assignment, sanctioned so long ago no excepts me seems to remember it. The new Sith Intelligence made a deal with the Republic, for me and a few other Ciphers.”

“But you were captured,” V’rel says. “Won’t they be mad?” She hates the thought of him tasting freedom, only to be killed by the Sith. Maybe she could put in a good word for him with Lana...

Darmas shakes his head. “If they planned on killing me, they wouldn’t bother with the effort of getting me released. I know how the game is played, Captain. I have a future as a Fixer ahead of me. Boring, but I’ll be alive.” He looks down at his hands and V’rel can see a bit of conflict on his face. “I’ll be able to make some sort of life on Dromund Kaas.” His eyes meet hers then. “And I have a young daughter. Almost seven years old now. It’s more than past time I be a father to her.”

“Well, then I’m happy for you, Darmas,” V’rel says. She can almost feel the ties she thought binded them together once loosening, and she’s ready to let them slip through her fingertips. He sounds almost content at the prospect of his new life, and he certainly doesn’t need any of the crazy that constantly surrounds her.

She stands, and he quickly follows. Before she can change her mind, V’rel leans in and kisses him. She meant it to be a passionate goodbye kiss, but it ends up be cordial, almost brotherly.

It’ll do.

So without another word, V’rel turns on her heel, and silently says goodbye.

#

“Look what the bantha dragged in,” V’rel says, knowing and not caring at just how damn pleased she sounds to see him.

She’s looking out one of the big picture windows of the Carrick Space Station, arms crossed over her chest. She hadn’t expected a holo from Theron, stars, she honestly hadn’t expected to ever hear from him again. Would serve her right, finally falling for someone and then have him disappear from her life.

To her surprise, Theron greets her by putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Yeah, well, after Ziost, I think everyone needed some time.

There’s something comforting about having him next to her, so she wraps her arm around his waist, not caring if anyone sees them. “Makes sense,” V’rel says, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I hoped we could talk about us,” Theron says quietly. V’rel feels her whole body tense at the words, Theron must have felt it, too, because he kisses her then, soft and sweet. “Nothing to worry about.”

V’rel lets out a laugh as her body relaxes, then lightly swats him on the stomach. “Talk away.”

“Here’s the deal,” Theron says, and his voice is as serious as she’s heard. “I like you. A lot.”

“I like you, too,” V’rel says before she can stop herself. And it’s one of the truest things she’s ever said.

He smiles and V’rel thinks she could get used to that smile. “I’m glad,” he says. “Here’s the thing, though. Being completely honest with you, I’m crap at relationships.”

“Oh thanks the stars, me too,” V’rel says, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Aren’t we a pair?” Theron asks. But then his voice turns somber. “Look, with this war…”

V’rel understands exactly what he’s trying to say. They could be dead tomorrow. They could make decisions that will wreck them. Neither one of them can afford to make any promises. So she stands on tiptoes, and brushes her lips against his. “One day at a time.”

“I like the sound of that,” Theron says and there’s a smile on his face, one she’s never seen before, and one she hopes to see again. “We’ll take things slow.”

“Slow,” V’rel repeats before kissing him. Slow could mean lots of different things now. Slow could mean taking the time to find the best way to help the Republic or falling head over heels in love.

_Slow._

Funny how that word doesn’t scare her anymore.


End file.
